golden locks

6
  • charlie and the chocolate factory.
#DateMeBuckyBarnes (Part 6)

Summary: When Hollywood’s heartthrob Bucky Barnes breaks up with his girlfriend, you jokingly tag him in a selfie on Instagram to express your desire to date him. What you don’t expect is a response from the man himself [Modern AU].

Word Count: 1,312 

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

A/N: Got a little carried away writing this one…

Originally posted by closer-to-the-edge-of-glory

Are you kidding me right now?

Once again, you were in the presence of Bucky Barnes, the beautiful boy you thought you’d never see again after your meeting with him at the coffee shop. Though you maintained consciousness this time around, you weren’t sure if you were able to handle his company once more.

Steve’s gaze flickered between you and Bucky, confusion adorning his features as he spoke up. “You two know each other?” he asked, perplexed towards the predicament at hand. Unlike your friends, Steve was clearly unaware of the uncanny situation you had with Bucky. This was just a continuous mess with no plans of ending soon. 

Keep reading

4

today’s lock screen in honor of the golden maknae~

Happy Kookie Wednesday Y’all~

Leah|리아

I missed you

Loki x Reader

Genre: SO MUCH ANGST

Word Count: 1,383

Summary: You find out that your husband, Loki was still alive after falling from the Bifrost, and you were determined to see him. Although, when you do, it is not hugs and kisses like you expected from reuniting with the love of your life.

AN: mmkayyy, so my first shot at actually writing something, tell me if you like it. I just needed some good and frustrating ANGST. If y’all like it, maybe I’ll write more. If not, I’ll probably hide in my shell and never write again. Feedback is always welcome tho 


“I command you let me through!” You were yelling at the two guards blocking the path to the dungeons, or as you thought, your path to Loki. “We have orders from the Allfather, Lady Y/N,” they replied. “I don’t understand why I am forbidden to see my own husband.”

You had been arguing for almost an hour before you heard a familiar voice boom through the hallway. “Let her pass!” Whipping your head, you saw familiar golden locks and a sympathetic look from Thor. “He has already been sentenced to life in those dungeons. No need to keep him from reuniting with his dear wife" 

Thor put an arm around your shoulder and interrupted the guards before they could speak again, “Come! I will escort you to my brother”

After passing through the large doors and turning a corner, Thor stopped to look at you and sighed. “Lady Y/N, I know you must miss him but you cannot just bother these dungeons. He cannot be trusted. He is not the same Loki you grew up with centuries ago… that Loki fell from the Bifrost” He held your shoulders and you know that he means well but you couldn’t help but feel anger start to bubble up inside you.

“How is he different? He’s made mistakes but don’t we all? Thor, I lost him once but I know he is still my Loki.” You looked at Thor hoping he would understand, and sighed. “And even if he weren’t… I’d love him all the same.”

 Thor let out a second deep sigh and let go of your shoulders. “I hope he knows that.” You continued walking until you and Thor reached a rather large and furnished cell and saw the raven hair you missed running your fingers through.

“I must go now. I might need to speak to father before the guards do.” Thor turned and walked away before stopping to shortly look back between you and Loki. After Thor had left, you walked closer to the cell in front of you.

“Loki,” You spoke quietly but loud enough for him to slightly turn his head to the side.

His hair was much longer from the last time you saw him. From what you could see, his eyes looked sunken and his face was a sickly pale color.

“Loki,” You repeated and he furrowed his brows before standing up and turning to you. “What are you doing here?” He spoke harshly and glared. You were confused for a moment. He seemed angry and ashamed all at once but you still missed the sound of his voice after it had stopped flowing from his lips.

“I wanted to see you.” You continued keeping your voice at a whisper. He scoffed and looked away. You didn’t understand what you were feeling. You wanted to kiss him and punch him all at once. He left you but he’s here now. You started to feel the tears prick at your eyes and you looked down at your feet, from being so overwhelmed, you assumed.

“Did you miss me?” You heard Loki’s voice mock and you looked up to see his back turned to you once again.

Your tears subsided and whatever you were feeling turned into anger. Angry at him for everything; for leaving you and letting you cry at night, for mocking you now and for not seemingly missing you at all. At the same time you were angry at yourself for still wanting feel his lips against yours.

You furrowed your brows and raised your voice a little louder, “No, Loki. I didn’t.” Loki turned back to face you and looked taken aback, all you could do was let out a laugh and wipe the tears away. “I didn’t miss you at all. I didn’t miss the one person I called my friend. I didn’t miss the person I married. Gods, I didn’t miss having someone hold me at night or comfort me when I cried!” You were screaming and tears were falling hard at this point and you were trying to look anywhere but him.

“Y/N, I-” He started but you quickly interrupted him, not caring how much your voice cracked. “Of course I missed you, Loki” Your voice was back to a whisper and you looked back at your feet. You didn’t realize you had walked as close as you could to the cell. “I died when I heard what happened.” You let out a sigh and continued, “All I wanted was to see you again…” You looked up to see he looked… Sad. He had tears in his eyes but his mouth was turned downward like he was disgusted, not with you, but himself.

“I’m sorry, Y/N” Two words from his lips and all you wanted to do was hug him.  You just missed the feeling of him. You didn’t realize you were crying now just looking at his face.

“Why did you leave me? Why didn’t you tell me that you were okay? That you were alive?” You just wanted to know and every part of you was relieved that he was alive but hurt that he kept himself away from you and let you mourn.

“I couldn’t, Y/N.” he turned away again and started to walk towards his bed and you wanted to throw your slipper at him. “Why not!?” You yelled and he stopped moving completely. You saw his body stiffen and he let out a deep sigh.

“Y/N…”

“Did you not want to be with me?” You didn’t even understand what was coming out of your mouth. You wanted an answer. Something to explain why you didn’t eat for months and cried yourself to sleep, wishing you had fallen from the Bifrost. You just wanted him back with you.

“Of course I wanted to be with you, Y/N!” Loki yelled and interrupted your thoughts quickly. “Everyday, I wish to be beside you again. To hold you while you sleep. To be out of this accursed cell and be wherever you are!” He was running his fingers roughly through his hair, causing the slicked back locks to fall out of place. “But I couldn’t…”

“Why not!?” You yelled again

"I’m a monster, Y/N!” He looked at you full of rage. Not particularly at you but at everything. He wanted the world to melt away. “I couldn’t take it and especially after what I’ve done, I was too ashamed to even think of holding you again.” He sat on a small chair and put his head in his hands. You know what happened in Midgard but frankly, didn’t care when they told you he was okay.

“Did you at least try?” Your voice was cracking, you weren’t even sure if Loki could still hear you. All he did was sigh again before speaking up, not moving from his spot. “I wasn’t strong enough to try… I was too weak.”

“Were you too weak… or too selfish” You were hurting all over and your chest felt like a sack of bricks. It worsened when you saw a tear slip past Loki’s palm. “I don’t deserve you, Y/N…” He was near sobbing and it made your heart burn and caused you to choke back a sob yourself but you were just as mad.

"Loki, please… Just look at me” Your voice was still cracked but you had managed to cease the tears that were falling from your eyes. He looked up at you and you saw the tears that covered his cheeks.

“I’m not strong enough to try anymore, Y/N” He started to whisper, afraid that he wouldn’t be coherent if all you could hear was sobbing when he raised his voice. Hearing his words, your tears pushed out once more. You could feel your heart tearing itself to pieces. It felt worse than when you heard about his “death”. You felt hopeless. He was not the monster he believed himself to be nor did you believe he ever will be, but it seemed like he was the shell of your Loki.

“I missed you, Loki” you whispered one last time and turned around to leave when he put his head back in his hands and started to choke back his sobs.

“I missed you too, Y/N" 


Part 2 “Safe”

anonymous asked:

Hello, if you're still taking prompts could you do #33 with Marichat or Ladynoir? (BTW love your stories!)

This is horribly overdue. I’m so sorry this took so long, I was caught up with other stories, life, and just recently suffered a bad case of writer’s block :/ I picked the Ladynoir side of the love square (although it’s probably not in the way you’re thinking). Still, I hope you enjoy this :)


“Something about you makes me want to commit extreme violence.”


You may not know it, but being a noblewoman could be very difficult at times.

Such were the Lady Marinette’s thoughts as she finally managed to sneak away to the snack table. A young Lord had been trying to request a dance with her for the better part of ten minutes, causing her to nearly flee every time he came in her sights. Luckily, just when she thought she was cornered, she was able to pair him with her best friend.

“I’m going to kill you,” Lady Alya had silently mouthed when she was led to the dance floor.

Marinette giggled to herself as she swiped a chocolate chip cookie from the very top of the pile on the silver tray. Not many women were eating them in order to ‘maintain their figure’ but Marinette didn’t really care about that. She’d eat what she wanted, whenever she wanted.

She looked around at the sea of guests, at all the colorful masks that adorned their faces. Her parents decided to host a masquerade ball, thinking it to be romantic and mysterious. Marinette thought that the idea was intriguing, but she didn’t really think anyone to be romantic or mysterious. It was just like any other ball she’d been to, with no one in particular standing out among the crowd.

She wanted to tell her parents that real life was vastly different from fairy tales, but she knew it would crush their hearts, especially since they wanted her to have a whirlwind romance of her own.

Marinette sighed in defeat, resigning herself to picking out a stranger to dance with just to appease her hopeless romantic parents.

“Is the princess not having a good time?” a masculine voice teasingly drawled.

Startled, her head whipped around to see a man leaning against a nearby pillar. He wore the traditional finely-made garb befitting of someone of the noble class, yet it was completely black, save the swirling designs of green beside the buttons on the otherwise coal black jacket.

Around his equally green eyes sat a black domino mask, but with cat ears on the ends. His blond hair lacked a refined style, instead the golden locks were wildly tousled. However, instead of looking like a common vagrant, the look suited him perfectly.

His lips were stretched into a wide smile, a row of pearly-white teeth exposed in the process. She noticed the man had rather nicely chiseled features. This, combined with all his other traits, made him exceptionally handsome.

However, her heart was already taken.

“I am not a princess, sir,” she replied, a corner of her mouth arching in interest. She had a feeling that whoever this man was, he was going to prove to be riveting company.

“You could’ve fooled me, with how every man’s eyes are fixated on you alone,” he purred flirtatiously, abandoning his spot by the column to saunter closer to her.

She snorted in mirth, finding that she liked this stranger. Sure, his flirting was a little over-the-top, but it wasn’t at all creepy like how some lords spoke.

“I find that hard to believe,” she disputed with a grin. “It doesn’t matter anyway, since I’m not interested in any of them.”

“Too good for them?” he asked. His tone was still teasing, yet his eyes shined with something else. For a moment she thought it seemed like he was testing her, but she quickly wrote it off as paranoia.

“No, it’s not that. The person that I really want to dance with isn’t here,” she admitted. She had a mask on, so no one except for Alya knew who she really was. So she supposed it was okay to tell a few truths for one night, provided she was careful, of course.

She sighed, recalling how her statement had been all too true. Prince Adrien was far out of reach, and honestly she shouldn’t have expected him to show up to her modest estate, even if it was for a ball. She met him a few months ago when his father had invited all the noble families to a formal dinner, hers included.

They didn’t get off on the right foot, though.

When it was time for the dinner, she ended up being one of the last few to enter the dining room. She had been caught up in a conversation with Alya in the sitting room beforehand, delaying her arrival. When she did show, she was dismayed when she found a splash of red wine decorating the bottom of her cherry wood chair, with the Crown Prince himself squatting next to it.

Since she couldn’t berate him without receiving a harsh reprimand, she chose to coldly glare at him as she picked up a napkin from her place on the table to wipe it. Prince Adrien tried to stutter something out, something probably apologetic, but she silently rebutted every attempt for speaking.

Finally, when the dinner was over, it was discovered that it had started to rain. It was sunny before, so naturally no one brought umbrellas with them, thus resigning everyone to a wet and soaking fate.

However, right as she was about to step outside into the steady rain, the Prince appeared…with a black umbrella in hand. He explained that he was about to wipe off the wine when she had suddenly appeared. He didn’t try to soil her dress at all, and was simply in the right place (to clean the chair), but at the wrong time.

Hearing his honest words and expression persuaded her to forgive him. Afterward, he gave her the umbrella to use so she wouldn’t get wet.

And that was the moment when she fell in love with the sweet, unsuspecting prince.

They saw each other a few more times after that. He was just as friendly and amicable, but she could barely respond to him without embarrassing stutters and stammers. He was perfect in her eyes, so excuse her for being a little anxious to talk to him.

“Who do you admire that so rudely didn’t show up?” the stranger asked with a quirk of his lips.

She shook her head. There was no way she could tell anyone that she was interested in the Prince, mask or not.

“Sorry, but I can’t tell you that, Chat Noir.”

She supposed it was a good nickname; it suited him considering his attire. Besides, she couldn’t keep mentally referring to him as a stranger or just simply ‘he’.

“Chat Noir, hm?” he repeated, a far-away look appearing in his eyes as he stared above her head, a finger tapping chin in thought.

He grinned, returning his attention to her.

“I like it. Although I suppose you need a nickname now, too. How about…” he trailed off, inspecting her up and down to determine the perfect moniker. Abruptly he snapped his fingers, something that Marinette didn’t understand how he accomplished, considering he wore black gloves.

“Ladybug!” he exclaimed, smiling widely. “For your red dress and black mask. And it’s also perfect since black cats are a symbol of bad luck while ladybugs are for good luck. We’re like yin and yang, my Lady.”

The last two words rolled off his tongue in such an alluring way that caused the Lady’s heartbeat to momentarily quicken. With a light dusting of pink on her cheeks, she slightly shook her head, dismissing the sudden spike of attraction for him. ‘Chat Noir’ was just a charmingly amusing character, one that she didn’t romantically admire.

“Ladybug,” she echoed aloud, pursing her lips as she considered the potential identity. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that she seemingly decided, presenting Chat a coy smirk. “I like it.”

He mirrored her expression with a gleeful gleam of his own in his eyes.

“I knew you would,” he boasted in jest, straightening his shoulders and raising his chin in the air, giving off the appearance of a conceited aristocrat. She smiled and rolled her eyes when he placed a flattered hand over his heart. “Since everyone loves my ideas.”

“Really? And who would ‘everyone’ be?” she asked sarcastically, playing his game. “The other stray tomcats in the village?”

“My Lady, whoever said I was a stray? For all you know, I could be of royal pedigree.” His lips curved into a strangely unsettling smirk, as though he knew something she didn’t. “For all you know, I could be the Crown Prince!”

Marinette laughed, making sure to quickly press her lips together as she brought a hand to her mouth, trying to politely cover up the loud chortles. After all, it was rude for a well-bred lady to have her mouth wide open in laughter. Women were supposed to be demure and polite, always looking at their best.

She hated this social construct, yet she was doomed to follow through with its requirements anyway.

Once her giggles died down, she turned to face the grinning feline again.

“I’ve met Prince Adrien before, and I can confidently say that you’re nothing like him.”

“Indeed?” he remarked, almost sly.

“Yes, indeed,” she insisted with another giggle. “Prince Adrien isn’t like you at all.”

“And if he was? Would you admire him any less?”

Marinette visibly flinched, taken aback by his conclusion. With disbelieving eyes and reddened cheeks, she ducked her head down to avoid his eyes. How did he realize she had feelings for the Prince? This was bad, very bad…if he knew who she was he could tell Adrien, and then Adrien would never love her back and word would spread and she would become the laughing stock of the entire kingdom! She would be lonely for the rest of her life and die an old maid, while Adrien would pick a beautiful and worthy princess to marry…

She forced herself to take a deep breath through her nose.

Relax, Marinette. Maybe you could convince him that he’s wrong.

With that mental pep talk, she straightened her shoulders and faced him again.

“I don’t admire him, well, not more so than anyone else. I don’t admire him in the sense that you’re thinking of.”

“Really? Because from what I hear you do admire him, more so than anyone else.” He smirked wickedly, eliciting a nervous gulp from the stiffening maiden.

“H-How-?”

“The ‘how’ isn’t important,” he quickly dismissed with a careless wave of his hand. “What matters is the ‘why’. Why do you fancy Prince Adrien?” He clasped his hands behind his back before walking in front of her line of vision. She was positive that if they were alone, he’d be circling her like a hawk about to catch its prey.

“Is it for his riches? His looks? His palace? Or is it simply a matter of competition, in which you must win the grand prize?”

Marinette narrowed her eyes. Nevermind that this cocky feline somehow knew who she was (he didn’t say her name, but he had heard of her feelings for Prince Adrien, so therefore he must know her identity), but how dare he assume her affections were based on purely artificial things?

“Something about you makes me want to commit extreme violence,” she informed him, her tone hard as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“So it is true, then?” he guessed with a bitter grin, followed by a scoff. “I guess our dear Prince will forever be resigned to a life without true love. Pity, I heard he was interested in quite a lovely woman, too. Warm, kind, a bit clumsy, but beautiful inside and out. Tis a shame, although I suppose it’s very well that he caught himself before he fell completely.”

Marinette was now glaring daggers where Chat Noir stood, her teeth bared in an infuriated snarl. She ignored the jab to her heart from his mention of another woman that Prince Adrien was interested in, instead focusing her anger on his grave mistakes of her character.

“Now you listen here, Chat Noir,” she spat, pointing a finger to his chest. “My feelings for Prince Adrien are real, and not based on his title, or his riches, or looks. I didn’t even like him until I saw how kind, forgiving, and generous he could be. I love him for who he is as a person, not for what he could afford or what he could give me.”

She took a deep breath, her fury beginning to simmer.

“And while I know I have no chance of him ever returning my feelings,” she continued in a much less hostile tone than before, bordering on disheartened acceptance, “I just want to make it clear that I do truly care for him…even if he loves someone else.”

The man in front of her stared seemingly in awe at her words. His green eyes were blown wide as his cheeks gradually shifted into a rosy color. For a few, tense seconds all he could seem to do was peer at her with an emotion Marinette couldn’t place, his reaction garnering her confusion.

Why was he looking at her as if seeing her for the first time? It caused a shiver to run down her spine, a good thing or a bad thing, she wasn’t certain.

At last, he appeared to snap out of his self-induced trance, a corner of his mouth curling up in a fond smile.

“I apologize for making such inaccurate assumptions of your feelings, My Lady. I see now that I was in the wrong.”

He held out a gloved hand to her.

“Would you allow me to make it up to you with a dance?”

Marinette pursed her lips, not relenting on the glower she sent his way.

“How is a dance with you going to make it up to me?”

“Well, I’ve been told I’m an excellent dancer,” he boasted, shooting her a wink. “And I’ve been trained since early childhood in the art.” His smile faltered as his expression shifted from cheekiness to remorseful. “I really am sorry for making those false accusations about you. It was completely unjustified. Can you forgive me?”

Marinette sighed, her features relaxing in the process.

She supposed she could understand where he was coming from, since most girls only wanted Prince Adrien for his title or looks. How was he to know that she was different, that she didn’t care about that stuff?

Well, she did consider him to be the most handsome, gorgeous man she ever saw, but that wasn’t why she liked him.

Anyway, Chat was just making a conclusion most likely based on the Prince’s numerous, other female admirers. He was also quick to apologize once she informed him on how wrong he was.

She was set on dancing with Prince Adrien and him alone for the night, but it was obvious that he wasn’t going to show up. And, she’s been itching to dance…

“Alright, Chat Noir, I will dance with you. But you must promise me something first.”

A part of his forehead rose. She guessed he was raising an eyebrow at her request.

“And that would be?”

Her blue eyes hardened.

“You must promise not to tell Prince Adrien about my feelings for him. Swear to me you won’t!”

Chat looked baffled at her demand.

“But why-?”

“Because!” she hissed, pointing at him for emphasis. “He’ll reject me and then everyone will find out and then I’ll become the laughing stock of this kingdom for thinking I ever had a chance with him and then I’ll never be able to leave my house again! So do not tell him, understand?”

Chat, to her surprise and indignation, had the audacity to chuckle.

“I don’t know why you think he’ll reject you, you are a lovely woman.”

When she only blinked at his enunciation of the words, oblivious as to what he was getting at, he closed his eyes and sighed for a brief moment.

“Regardless,” he continued after he opened his eyes, flashing her a grin. “I won’t tell him. Cat’s honor.”

He placed his right hand over his heart as he made the vow, at the same time he raised his left in the air.

While she was skeptical of the sly expression he wore, he did promise not to tell Prince Adrien. She mentally scoffed, figuring he only had that look because he was only going to tease her throughout the night for her feelings.

“Very well, chaton. I’ll dance with you.”

His eyes shined with satisfaction, looking very much like the cat that got the cream.

The next day, after the hype from the ball had long ago worn off, Lady Marinette was pleasantly surprised to receive a letter addressed solely to her. She figured it to be from Alya, no doubt in order to berate her for leaving her to dance with a stranger.

The thought made her giggle before she accepted the note from the servant.

Only for the amusement to immediately die down once she observed just where the letter came from. With wide eyes and a new, nervous rhythm of her heart, she broke the wax seal and flipped the paper open.

Dear Lady Marinette,

I hope you are having a wonderful morning. I apologize for not being able to attend the ball your family hosted last night, for I was caught up with other duties. I hope you are able to find it in your kind heart to forgive me.

If you were not at all busy today, I was wondering if you would perhaps consider spending the afternoon with me at the palace. Besides having lunch and strolling around the grounds together, there is something I would like to ask of you.

This request is for you, and you alone, My Lady. Of course, you are free to decline, either the request or the visit, or even both if you so wish. Although, I will be honest with you, in that I very much hope you decide to come.

If you do wish to visit, please send word soon after you have made your decision. If not, please kindly disregard this note and I shall never bring up the subject again.

Sincerely Yours,

Adrien, Crown Prince of France

“Marinette?” Sabine asked whilst entering the dining room. Her head tilted in confusion upon seeing her daughter’s flustered state. “Are you alright? Who is that letter from?”

But her daughter couldn’t answer, for she promptly swooned and fell right out of her chair.


Don’t worry, she was fine and able to go to the palace xD

anonymous asked:

"Chat, i can't deal with this. My head hurts."

Marinette threw her pencil to the ground, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Careful, Princess. Any more fidgeting and this is going to fall out.” 

Chat was skillfully weaving her hair into a long fishtail braid, his tongue sticking out as he concentrated. It was almost cute enough for her to forget about her homework and allow him to finish.

Almost.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Marinette groaned, over-dramatically. “I’ve had my hair in a ponytail all day. Chat, I can’t deal with this. My head hurts. Do you have any idea what post-ponytail head feels like?”

She felt Chat raise his hands in defeat, chuckling, as he allowed her braid to fall. “You’d be surprised. The things I do for my gorgeous golden locks can be pawful.” He ran his fingers through his hair for emphasis.

Rolling her eyes, Marinette patted the floor in front of her, gesturing for him to sit down. The cat-themed hero obeyed as Marinette grabbed a comb and settled back down, adjusting his hair. It was surprisingly soft.

“Whatever you’re doing, it’s working wonders. You have the hair of a model!”

She wasn’t expecting Chat to spin around as fast as he did, knocking her from her comfortable position.

“Who told you I was a model?!”

“What?”